


What She Needs

by Loopdeloup



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loopdeloup/pseuds/Loopdeloup
Summary: An everyday interaction, season 2
Relationships: Chakotay & Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 24
Kudos: 79
Collections: Star Trek Voyager J/C





	What She Needs

** What She Needs **

He stood in the doorway and sighed in mild exasperation.

He’d chimed for entry and she’d granted access, but plainly without really registering even as he came in.

She was still sitting exactly as he had left her some four hours earlier, both elbows on the desk, intently staring at the screen in front of her, one hand gently rubbing the back of her neck, the other cradling her forehead. Pushed off to her right was the untouched sandwich he had brought in on his last visit, and slightly closer, her coffee cup, no doubt empty.

He stood still some moments, watching, her eyes scanning the text, a picture of concentration, obviously totally unaware he’d come in at all.

He cleared his throat and took a step closer trying to encroach gently on her field of vision.

She stirred a little, held up a warning finger and continued with her reading.

He held his breath and stood another minute in silence, watching her, his exasperation battling with feelings of tenderness at how hard she drove herself, and admiration at her determination, her brilliance. He knew she was reading highly theoretical specifications on some technology shared with them by the Xenta in gratitude after the crew of Voyager had helped them cope with a natural disaster. It apparently was capable of extracting up to ninety percent greater efficiency from every gram of fuel. If even a percentage of that could be applied to the dilithium used in their own warp drive system, it would drastically reduce the proportion of their trip spent scouring for raw materials which saw their route home as so subject to unpredictable zigzagging, the need to engage in risky mining and extraction operations, and riskier still urgent trade negotiations putting additional pressure on already delicate first contact situations with alien races. 

He could almost see her mind spinning as she read. He noted both the customary little crease between her brows, but also her quirked half-smile tugging at the side of her mouth indicating her delight.

He’d also looked at the material and although he didn’t consider himself a slouch at practical, technical and even broad theoretical matters concerning the various ship drive systems, he’d not been able to make head nor tail of it. Even the supposedly simplified summary document was an incomprehensible jumble of interlinked pages-long, backwards-and-forwards formulas and flowcharts which only seemed to become more alien and more counter-intuitive the longer you looked at them.

Janeway had convened a meeting for within two days to brainstorm approaches on how to make use of the information, but talking privately with the other members of senior staff, it seemed the only other person with the possibility of anything to contribute would be B’Elanna. Tuvok had unproblematically declared that his talents lay elsewhere. Tom had taken one look at the document and said he'd be happy to work on the technical part once someone worked out how to unscramble the alphabet soup excreted by the universal translator. Harry was pulling all-nighters trying to come up with something, in desperation asking B’Elanna for some tips on how to get a grasp on navigating the text basics. So far she’d shared a few pointers and an attempted summary of the summary with the entire team, but on being pressed further growled that she was finding it extremely challenging herself.

Yet here was Captain Kathryn Janeway, skimming through the main text as fast as if it had been a delightful novel. It seemed unfair and as ever improbable that one person could have so much talent, so much brilliance, added to all that bravery, compassion, and grace. It had taken him a long time to concede she was probably what she seemed: Truly the finest, most shining epitome of all those impossible Starfleet ideals that he had once embraced, only to later become disgusted with as not just mythical-he then thought-but fraudulent, set out to put stars in the eyes of naïve young wannabe officers with the sole purpose of making them dance to the machinations of corrupted admirals in a flawed and ugly system of disguised power plays. And yet there she was, this delicate, exquisite human vessel, a living breathing embodiment of all that was good and bright and noble, wise and selfless and self-sacrificing, on top of that, glowing with larger-than-life charisma when stepping up into her command persona. But also so infuriatingly stubborn, so bad at taking care of herself. In rare offstage moments such as this, her "Captain" powered down, she suddenly seemed so much smaller, alarmingly fragile, a mere mortal after all. A mere mortal who was starting to look worn thin, her pale skin increasingly translucent. He inadvertently clicked his tongue.

Janeway looked up under her brows, an annoyed glare, hating being dragged from her state of deep concentration. She then registered her own finger still held out in forgotten warning. She turned her gaze back to him once more, a little sheepishly this time, taking in the fact that he held a promising-looking steaming cup in one hand along with an inevitable plate of something in the other. “Coffee?” she smiled hopefully.

“No. Soup.” As her face fell into a pouting scowl, he quickly added with a cajoling flash of dimples, “Your favorite soup. Captain, you’ve not eaten since breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” She bit the finger until then still held up in front of her and looked up the ceiling. A half-smile crept over her face. “That would have been… Coffee.” She hunched her shoulders in pretend guilt.

Chakotay shook his head, looking down to hide his exasperated smile. “Captain, that’s not okay. If you don’t take better care of yourself, how are you going to be able to take proper care of the ship and the crew?”

He moved forward to place the steaming cup and the plate of fragrant freshly-made bread rolls in front of her, then planted both hands on the desk to lean down over her sternly. “I don’t know how this position of First Officer has somehow morphed into me having to nag you constantly about basic self-care. I never thought it would mean taking on the role of being the Captain’s mother.”

“But..." She smiled slyly, undaunted, "I miss my mother! And that is exactly what she would be doing if she were here.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind so much if you would actually obey me then." He paused, glaring over her, then blanched a little on realizing how that sounded. In an attempt to drown out some of the images of what might occur should Kathryn Janeway ever be willing to _obey_ him, he quickly amended, "But anyway, Captain, you don’t need a mother, you need -” 

Oh, this was worse. He stopped himself in horror, his mind spinning over all the things he could say but must not. In his own mind, he’d started the statement innocently enough. _You need to take care of yourself_. But somehow his mind flew to so many other inadmissible things she needed that he couldn’t find a single permissible way to finish the sentence.

That got her attention. Never one to be told what to do and much less to resist an opportunity to tease him, she pushed the screen to the side and drew herself to her feet, raising her chin and leaning forward over the desk herself to close the space between them. Their gazes locked, a twinkling challenge sizzling palpably in the air. She husked, “ _What_ do I _need_ , Commander?”

He was unable to stop his glance straying from those flashing eyes to her auburn hair, to her defiantly raised chin, her curled crooked half-smiling lips. “You _need –”_

_Yellow alert! Senior staff on duty, please come to the bridge._

They both let out the breath they hadn’t even realized they’d been holding, the tension draining quickly into the floor, leaving them to smile fondly at each other.

“You _need_ -” Chakotay said, standing back and tugging on his ear, “- to take that soup with you. And to drink it. No one will know it’s not coffee.”

They shrugged at each other. She picked up the cup and began to head for the door.

“And Captain?” he said, serious again.

She froze in place.

“Eat a roll while they’re still warm!” He picked one up, closing the space between them to sternly hold it against her lips. By reflex she took it with her free hand and obediently took a bite.

Looking down to hide his flashing dimpled triumph, he led the way to the door.

Her eyes narrowed as she followed behind him, chewing absently on the bread.

**Author's Note:**

> My very first fan fiction. I hope to write more.


End file.
